


Wanting

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, First Time, Romance, all things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 17:53:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18320297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Can't have enough all things fics, can you?





	Wanting

Scully wakes with a roll of her head and a deep inhalation.  Her eyes open wide for a moment, then roll back as she stretches her neck.  She’s warm from sleep and from the blanket that scratches her chin. She doesn’t know how long she was out for and struggles to pull her arm free to look at her watch.  It’s barely past dinner time.

 

With a sigh, Scully pushes herself up from the couch and lets the blanket fall to the cushions.  She can hear Mulder in the kitchen, water running in the sink. In her stockinged feet, she’s able to sneak up on him, even if that’s not what she’s trying to do.  He’s washing their teacups and she slips her arms around his waist and rests her cheek against his back.

 

Mulder startles just a bit and looks over his shoulder.  “Scared me,” he says.

 

“Sorry.”  She doesn’t feel sorry though, she feels something more like contentment.

 

“You don’t sound sorry.”

 

Her eyes slip shut and she smiles, her mild chuckle muffled by his soft sweater.  

 

“I’m supposed to be the one with jet lag,” he says.

 

“Sorry for that too.”

 

“I suppose I can forgive you.”

 

She feels him return to the dishes, feels the muscles in his back shift and ripple against her as he moves.  She opens her eyes, suddenly aware of the way her heart thrums in her chest and taps against his back. Or maybe it’s his heartbeat she feels against her chest.  Maybe they’re indistinguishable from one other. She tightens her arms around him, crossing her forearms over each other as much as she can.

 

“I want you,” she says.  It isn’t whispered or murmured, but spoken boldly and without any hint of trepidation.

 

Something clatters in the sink, a spoon maybe, and Mulder straightens up.  Scully rubs her face between his shoulder blades and he puts his wet hands over her arms.

 

“Was that part of your epiphany?” he asks.  His voice sounds slightly strained.

 

“No.”  She nuzzles the back of his left shoulder blade with her nose.  “Shouldn’t you turn the water off?”

 

Slowly, one of Mulder’s hands lifts off her forearm and then the kitchen goes quiet, save for the residual drip drip drip of the faucet.  Scully breathes deeply and loosens her arms. He stays absolutely still. She leisurely slides her hands across his abdomen to his hips. His gut clenches and his muscles jump as she does.

 

“No, I’ve known for some time,” she says to his back.  “Turn around?”

 

“I’m afraid I might embarass myself if I do.”

 

“Because you might want me too?”

 

Mulder nods a little and Scully only catches it because she’s looking up at the back of his head.  Her eyes are on his nape and the back of his jaw, admiring the clean lines of a fresh haircut and shave.  Was she asleep long enough for him to shower and shave? She’s always liked it when she’s caught him just after his morning shower, nice and smooth and smelling like soap and CK One.  Equally though, she’s also liked him with five o’clock shadow and a rumpled suit, tie loose and collar undone.

 

“Turn around,” she says.   

 

Mulder turns within the small space between Scully and the sink.  She keeps her hands on his hips and toys with the hem of his sweater with her thumbs.  He’s got his wet hands up and out like he’s surrendering to something. There’s a slight tremor in his fingers.  A sideways glance at the countertop and she spots a hand towel, but she has to lean into Mulder to retrieve it. He pulls his hips away from her slightly and shuffles his feet.  She tips her face up and breathes in at his collar.

 

“Did you shower?” she asks, passing the towel up to him.

 

“Yeah I...I felt like I had the stench of jet engine all over me.”

 

“You certainly don’t now.  I love the way you smell.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yes.  I always have.  Sometimes when we’re out in the field and you want to whisper something to me and you lean close and...”  She closes her eyes and breathes in deep. She sighs a little as she exhales and then looks up at him. His lips are parted slightly in awe.

 

Scully takes one step back and glances at the dishrag in Mulder’s hand.  He’s done nothing but hold it, both arms still up the way she left it. She raises a brow at him and he startles into action, folding his arms close to his chest as he wipes his hands dry, though he could have brought them around her.

 

“I was going to tell you,” she says, “before I fell asleep, that whether I’m meant to be here or not, even if there is no choice, I do choose to be here.”

 

“In a big picture scenario or right here?”

 

“Either.  Both. I want to be in the FBI, in the X-Files, with you….”  She pauses for a moment and then repeats the last part of what she says for emphasis.  “With you.”

 

Mulder balls up the towel in his hands and twists a little to drop it back on the counter.  His hips come forward a bit and brush against Scully’s belly. If she was worried about whether or not he was in the same place she was, which she wasn’t, it was obvious that he wanted this too, he was just holding back.  Her eyes drooped a little. She’d forgotten how oddly feminine it made her feel to be faced with something so primitively male. Despite how obviously his desire presents itself, she can tell he’s hesitant.

 

“Mulder, what would you do if I kissed you right now?”

 

“What would I do?”

 

“Yes, what would you do?  Turn me down? Push me away?”

 

“No, of course not.  I’d...kiss you back.”

 

“Would you?”

 

“I’d like to think.”

 

What is she a scientist for if not to test hypotheses?  She puts her hands on his chest and leans into him again, stretching up on her toes and tilting her head just so.  She only kisses the corner of his mouth though and then tips her head to the other side and kisses the other corner.  She pulls back just a little and his lips twitch and his head turns towards her ever so slightly.

 

“Mulder,” she whispers.  “I want you.”

 

“You’ve always had me,” he murmurs to her, just before wrapping his arms around her and bending his head to meet her mouth.

 

Finally, she thinks.  Finally she’s brave enough to make the move he’s been waiting for.  Finally they’ve both stopped suppressing their desire for each other.   Finally she knows what it feels like to be clinched with him and have his tongue in her mouth, his hands splayed against her back, and his lithe, but strong body pressed to hers.  Finally.

 

“More,” she says, after he pulls out of their kiss, and tries to catch his mouth again, but he tips his head, breathing harsh.

 

“My knees are shaking.  I want…”

 

She runs her fingers through his hair.  It’s softer when he hasn’t sprayed it into place.  Like duck feathers. “What do you want?” she asks.

 

“To take you into the bedroom.”

 

“Sounds like we want the same thing.”

 

“Scully…”

 

She brings his head back down to hers even as he tries to back her out of the kitchen.  The temptation to kiss him again is too great, and he must feel the same. She bumps into the doorframe with a small ‘oof.’  In an effort to steady her, or maybe to simply cop a feel, Mulder’s hand jumps to her hip and then slides to the back of her thigh, following the curve of her ass on the way down.  She wants to raise her leg over his hip, but her stupid skirt won’t permit it and she lets out a little frustrated whimper.

 

Bracing against the doorjamb though, she’s able to stretch up on her toes a little higher and kiss him a little harder.  When he leans into her, she’s able to push into him, her belly rubbing against the bulge in his pants, and this time it’s his turn to whimper.  He clutches the back of her thigh and they both groan. A flood of sticky heat rushes down from her pelvis and between her legs. She’s hot and throbbing from want.

 

And then Mulder pulls her from the doorjamb and they’re both stumbling as they break apart.  He tries to take her hand, but their fingers keep slipping away from each other in their haste.  She laughs as her stockings make her slip across his floor and he chuckles with her. He crosses the threshold first and she stops to peel off her shirt like she wants to make an offering before entering his chamber.  

 

The lamp is on, thank god.  She doesn’t want to do this in the dark.  She wants to see his face as they make love to each other.  

 

Mulder’s turning down the bed.  She tosses her shirt aside and it hits the floor next to his feet.  He turns around and comes back to her in the doorway and grasps her hips.  “Now I know how much you want this,” he says.

 

“You do?”

 

“Tossing clothes onto the floor?  You must be so interested in something else to not worry about the wrinkles.”

 

She has to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling too much now that he’s decided to flirt with her.  Even if she feigns exasperation most of the time he does it, she’s always liked it. And she suspects he knows it.

 

“I am very much interested in a lot of things right now,” she says, running her palms up and down Mulder’s chest.  “You catching up with me is on the list.”

 

He glances down at his chest.  “You mean you want this off?”

 

She plucks lightly at the soft material covering his pecs.  Mulder tugs at the back of his collar and brings his sweater up and over his head, along with his undershirt, in two seconds flat.  She scratches the dusting of hair curling at his chest with her fingernails. His abdominal muscles clench and flex and he sucks in a breath when she moves lower, appreciating the hard ridges of his stomach with just the light tips of all ten fingers.

 

Mulder makes a noise, something between a groan and a cough.  Scully looks up at him just as her nails catch at the waistband of his jeans.  She slides her hand lower and cups him lightly and then squeezes softly. His adam’s apple bobs up and down.  He blinks almost as rapidly as he swallows and then clears his throat.

 

“Your turn,” he says.

 

“My turn?”

 

His gaze drifts down to her chest and then to her waist and then back up.  It takes her a second to realize he wants her to remove more clothing. She searches for the tiny, hidden zipper at the side of her skirt and gives it a small tug, pulling it only about an inch or so before turning her hip towards him.  He hesitates before he reaches out and grasps the small zip, drawing it down slowly like he’s afraid he’ll rip it in two. Before it’s all the way undone, the skirt begins to slide down her hips and then hangs precariously off the swell of her ass, waiting for him to push it the rest of the way off.  And he does.

 

Mulder’s hands hover by her sides as he stares down at her.  She ducks her head into his line of vision and raises a brow at him.

 

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she says.

 

“Seven years ago.”

 

“Thought you had an eidetic memory.”

 

“Don’t be cheeky, this is different and you know it.  Besides, I wasn’t really looking that night.”

 

“You were searching blindly for those mosquito bites?”

 

“With candlelight I might as well have been.”

 

“And the decontamination shower at Fort Marlene?”

 

“It was a passing glance.  Totally accidental.”

 

“Mmhm,” she answers, giving him a reprieve and tugging on his belt loop.  “Your turn.”

 

“Would you like to do the honors?”

 

She shakes her head.  She’d rather watch. And she does.  She watches his nimble fingers undo every single button on his fly, all four of them.  His grey boxer-briefs slip off one hip as he pushes his jeans off and she unconsciously licks her lips at the reveal.  There’s a dark stain of pre-ejaculate bleeding through his shorts. 

 

“Kiss me,” she whispers, and Mulder has tip her chin up and wait for her to drag her gaze from his crotch before he puts his mouth to hers.

 

It’s sloppier than before.  Their tongues meet and twist and explore and mouths become slippery with shared saliva.  Mulder bends to bring his arms around her waist and walk her back towards the bed. She doesn’t want to move there quite yet though, not until…

 

Scully reaches down and gently cups the bulge in Mulder’s shorts again, though without the barrier of his jeans, she gets a handful on a lot more of him.  His hips jerk against her hand and his mouth pops away from hers as he sucks in a breath.

 

“Jesus,” he hisses through gritted teeth.  

 

She watches his face as she squeezes him lightly and tries to get a feel through warm cotton for what’s to come.  She has him breathing heavy in a matter of seconds and though it seems a little like torture to get him so hot so soon, she can’t help herself from moving her hand inside his underwear for a better feel.  Fantasies definitely don’t do reality justice. She’d certainly imagined the velvety softness of his skin and the way he might fill her hand or her mouth, amongst other things, but it’s one thing to imagine and another to have him hot and heavy in her grip.

 

“Uh,” Mulder groans.  “Scully, I think I might...uh…I think I need you to...”

 

“Slow down?”

 

“A little?  Please?”

 

She smiles and slips her hand free.  Soon enough and she won’t have to wonder anymore anyway.  He sighs a little in relief.

 

“Should we lay down?” she asks.

 

“Okay.”  He nods and moves away from her.  He’s lucky enough to be barefoot, but she needs to remove her stockings and while she’s at it, she takes the opportunity to unhook her bra while he’s climbing onto the bed, figuring it will save time later.

 

Mulder’s eyes bounce between her chest and her face when he turns onto his side.  He opens his mouth, but says nothing, like he’s lost the power of speech. She crawls towards him, conscious of the unbound sway of her breasts and his efforts to keep his eyes up.

 

“You can look, Mulder,” she says.

 

“I’m…”

 

“I want you to look.”  She kisses his mouth lightly before laying on her side to face him.  “I want you to do more than look.”

 

“You know, I was actually kind of bummed out you turned me down flat on coming with me to England.”

 

“I’m not suddenly going to go chasing phantom crop circles with you just because I’ve let you see me naked.”

 

“Oh, I’d expect nothing less.  I was simply going to say that, I’m suddenly not so sorry anymore.”

 

She smiles and takes his hand, bringing it up and over her right breast.  His mouth falls silently open again, but he squeezes her breast and circles her nipple with her thumb.  Contrary to the nervousness he’s been displaying, he clearly knows what he’s doing.

 

With a sigh, Scully leans in to kiss him again.  She’s in good hands, literally, but it only serves as a reminder of that increasing ache between her legs.  She presses her thighs together, but when that doesn’t cut it, presses her hips into Mulder’s instead. He groans into her mouth and it spurs her on.  The coarse hair on his legs tickles her thighs as she works her knee between his. She feels like senses she’s not even aware of are firing on all cylinders, bringing another rush of sticky arousal through her.

 

“Have we slowed down long enough?” she breathes between kisses.

 

“You got somewhere to be, Scully?”

 

“No, but you do.”  She rubs her eager body against his when he cocks his head.  “Inside me.”

 

“God, Scully.”

 

She reaches down and peels her sticky, wet panties off her hips and maneuvers as best as she can to get them off while maintaining as much contact with Mulder as she can.  She might be rushing things along, but it doesn’t feel like rushing when it’s been seven years in the making. Even so, she takes a pause when her hands move to his hip and her fingers scratch at the waistband of his underwear.  She wants him to want this too, maybe even to need it like she does. She glances down at his hips and then back up.

 

“Go ahead,” he says, and then swallows nervously.

 

She tries not to look so eager as she pulls his shorts down.  It’s hard not to though. She can look now and she doesn’t have to pretend that she isn’t or that she doesn’t want to.  He isn’t sick and they’re not in a decontamination unit. They’re in bed together with purpose. She’s aroused, and so is he.  She can look, she can touch, and more importantly, so can he.

 

When she looks up at him, he’s watching her.  A blush runs through her. She knows he knows what she’s thinking and she should be embarrassed by it, but it’s almost thrilling.  She puts her hand on his brae hip and this time it’s Mulder that leans in and kisses her.

 

As though they’ve rehearsed it, she pushes on Mulder’s hip just as he pulls her towards him and he ends up on his back with Scully straddling his waist.  She presses one hand to the bed above his shoulder and hovers over him. The small, gold cross charm dangling on her necklace brushes his chin.

 

“Do we need anything?” he asks, turning his head briefly to look towards his nightstand.  “I’m not even sure if-”

 

“Mulder, you know that it isn’t...It’s impossible that...no, we don’t.“  She’s momentarily flustered by the thought of how unnecessary protection is, and how it never even occurred to her in the first place.  She just wants him, all of him, no barriers between them.

 

“Okay,” he says, gently pushing her hair back over one ear and then hooking a finger into the chain of her necklace to slide her cross back and forth a few times.  “Just remember that ‘extreme possibility’ is my middle name.”

 

She huffs a short laugh.  “Is that a reminder not to give up on any miracles?”

 

“Or an assurance that any little miracles wouldn’t be unwanted.”

 

Her mouth opens, but she’s too stunned to say anything for a few moments.  “Thank you,” she whispers.

 

“Just wanted you to know.”

 

“Okay.”

 

And then they are both silent.  He hasn’t stopped gazing at her since she’s been above him and she hasn’t turned away either.  He seems content to let her hover there for as long as she wants, but then she notices that he’s breathing is tight and shallow.  He’s holding back. Waiting. Holding his gaze, she arches her back just a little to lift her hips up and then she relaxes and rocks forward to slide her slick folds along the hard length of him, pressed between their bodies.  He groans and both hands fly quickly to her ass, though it’s hard to tell if he’s trying to encourage her, or slow her down.

 

Scully decides it’s the former and not the latter when she lifts her hips and he takes one hand away to reach between their bodies.  They don’t quite get it right on the first try and it takes a little patience and guidance on both of their behalves, but once she’s got him and he’s finally easing himself inside, it pulls a tear of relief from the corner of her eye.

 

Mulder reaches up to hold her face, brushing his thumb over the apple of her cheek.  “You alright, Scully?”

 

“Perfect,” she answers.  “We’re perfect together.”

 

“We always have been.”

 

If she was being honest, she wasn’t expecting magic.  She was expecting fumbling and awkwardness and that first-time learning curve where whispered and stilted instructions are traded until it’s understood that yes, I want your hand here, and wait, your elbow is in the way, or that’s right, just a little harder, yes, right there.  This is Mulder though. Every experience involving Mulder is otherworldly, so how could she possibly expect falling into bed with him would be an exception?

 

Though she may have been in a rush to get them here, she wants to slow time now and savor every moment.  Like the starry-eyed way he looks at her as they slowly learn the rhythm of each other’s hips. Like how it feels as though the heel of his hand was custom made for the dip of her lower back as he presses her closer.  Like how hard he is where she’s soft. Like how the combination of his sweat and her sweat and the abundance of pheromones between them creates a unique, musky perfume.

 

When it becomes too much for her to stay above him and she drops her head to his shoulder, he wraps his arms around her and flips them over.  Until now, he’s let her take the lead and set the pace, but then the tables turn. If she wasn’t aroused before, she absolutely is now, with her legs folded and knees pressed to her chest and Mulder’s arms bracketing her shoulders, his hands curved over the top of her head.  The angle is delicious, the power in Mulder’s thrusts is exquisite, and the soft way he grunts and moans into her ear is one of the most thrilling sounds she’s ever heard.

 

He’s got her in that torturous precipice between too much pleasure and not enough.  She hangs there in the balance, desperately pressing her heels into his back and grasping for purchase at the meaty curve of his ass.  When she tries to say his name, she’s too out of breath for more than the first syllable, so what comes out is a panted ‘Muh, Muh, Muh,’ before she gives up.

 

And oh, bless whatever intuition or experience makes him reach down between them.  Her toes curl with delight. She feels like she loses minutes to the full-body bliss that takes over.  Her ears go deaf and her vision dims and her quaking body is beyond her control. When she comes back into herself, she is first aware of the wet slap of Mulder’s hips into hers and then the beads of sweat that roll from his temples to splash her shoulders.

 

Only moments later, the muscles in his neck go tense and he lifts his chin like a dog howling at the moon.  He groans and his chest shakes against hers for three short heartbeats and then he breathes out her name as he deflates.  She wraps him completely in the strong cage of her arms and legs. His head comes to rest on her chest and she rests her chin on his head.  His hair is damp and her skin is clammy. Her thighs are achy and sticky and she has to carefully ease her legs down. Mulder is heavy against her, but she’s too drowsy and sedate to move.  It’s not something she’d ever admit out loud, but she likes the messiness of sex. It’s like a chance to be free of the structure and order in which she lives her life. She wants to revel in it just a little longer.

 

Mulder starts to pull away, but she keeps him to her.  “Don’t go,” she says.

 

“I’m probably crushing you.”

 

“No, I like it.”

 

He shifts and tries to redistribute his weight a little, but ultimately stays where he is.  Sweat cools and the humid cloud of heat and heavy breathing dissipates, leaving the smell of sex behind on the sheets and on their skin.  Eventually, Scully shivers and Mulder finally disentangles himself to head to the bathroom. She knows she needs to get up, to clean up and use the bathroom as well, but she turns her head into the pillow and breathes them in.

 

“I’m feeling a little dehydrated,” Mulder says, coming out of the bathroom.  “Do you want a glass of water?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

He makes his way to the kitchen and she watches his bare ass as he goes.  She finally gets out of bed to use the bathroom. When she comes out, she notices the glasses of water on the nightstand and the small towel over the wet spot on the bed, which makes her chuckle.  Mulder is just getting into bed, adjusting the rumpled duvet and fluffing the pillows. She crawls in beside him and he draws the covers over both of them. They’re turned towards each other, sharing the same pillow.  Their hands rest beside each other, pinkie fingers not quite touching. For awhile, they just stare at one another.

 

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Mulder says.  “But, why now?”

 

She takes a few moments to answer and then lifts her shoulder slightly in a shrug.  “Why not?”

 

“That’s all?  Why not?”

 

“I mean, don’t you think it’s about time?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“So then why not?”

 

“Huh.”

 

“And I just...when I woke up on the couch and saw you standing in the kitchen, I just...I wanted you.”

 

“When you started confessing to me about your experience in the temple, I wanted you too.”

 

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“I have to get up early tomorrow.  I’ll need to go home and shower and change before work.”

 

“We could call out sick.”

 

“We can’t let this-”

 

“I know.  We can’t let it effect the job.”

 

Scully slides her hand under his and then turns their palms towards each other and their fingers dance together before interlocking.

 

“You want to go out with me on Friday?” he asks.

 

“To look for crop circles?”

 

“No, dinner.  Maybe a movie.”

 

“Like a date?”

 

“Exactly like a date.”

 

She smiles a little.  “I haven’t been on a date in seven years.”

 

“I got you beat, more like nine of ten for me.”

 

“I would love to.”  Her eyes close dreamily.  Mulder flexes his fingers and slides out of their joined grip to put his arm around her.  She sighs a little and snuggles close. She wants to fall asleep right now and wake up just like this.

 

The End  

  
  
  



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